in the rain
by Time Signature
Summary: It was a dreary, raining day when Harry Potter, twenty-two, opened the door of her home (Number 12, Grimmauld Place) to find an unexpected visitor. His handsome face under the umbrella was painted with shadows and tiredness; he asked her if they could start over again from the very beginning, now half a lifetime ago. Draco x fem!Harry
1. Chapter 1: dusk

in the rain

Time Signature

Disclaimer: I do not own any aspects of Harry Potter, and neither do I claim keeno's lyrics.

It was a dreary, raining day when Harry Potter, now twenty-two, opened the door of her home (Number 12, Grimmauld Place) to find an unexpected visitor. His handsome face under the umbrella was painted with shadows and tiredness; he asked her if they could start over again from the very beginning, now half a lifetime ago.

Draco Malfoy x female Harry Potter AU in which attraction to any girls never happened, and her only teenage romance was a few crushes. Based on keeno's album "in the rain." Mood best achieved if listened to while reading. The romance is slow.

* * *

Track one: dusk

_The sky stained a shade of dusk, it connects and echoes…_

Harry Potter glanced once more at the Daily Prophet innocently sitting on the table before taking a long sip of her tea from the cup that she had bought so long ago with her best friends, who were now happily married. Although the media had calmed down somewhat from what it had been five years ago when she had defeated Voldemort, it still enjoyed bursting her personal bubble.

A prime example of that was the article on this morning's Prophet, which had boldly declared that she was "one of the most eligible young ladies in Wizarding society at the moment." True, she might be – after all, she had saved the entire world from an impending crisis, not to mention that she was the sole heiress of the prestigious pureblood Potter line and also partially claiming the Black fortune, seeing she was the goddaughter of the eldest son (who had been disowned, but still), but she definitely did not need men pining after her at this moment. She was perfectly happy alone, working for the Ministry of Magic, which had erased most of its corruption now, as an Auror.

Still holding the cup, she walked over to the closest window and pulled the light green curtains aside to watch the gray skies pouring rain against the equally gray streets. When she had gained possession of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, she had remodleled it to be as neutral as possible, but in some places she still had kept the original furnishings. Two such places were Regulus Black's and her godfather's rooms, and she had also retained the hangings and things that she had somehow fallen in love with.

The curtains were one of them – they were the exact same shade of her mother's eyes.

The portrait of Madam Black, however, went away in an instant. (She had given it to Kreacher, who would no doubt have cried if she had thrown it away.) So did the other dangerous items. No 'Permanent' Sticking Charms or other things had stood up to the famed Elder Wand, which Harry had indeed found some use for, despite what she had initially said. It had also helped immensely to clear away any sort of evidence that Death Eaters had been in here.

The house was oddly quiet today, the young woman mused. Normally there would be some rustling or Kreacher cooking or another sound. That did not matter, she supposed, inhaling the scent of bergamot from her Earl Grey, which gave her a sense of equanimity. She continued to look outside, strangely mesmerized by the sight of the clear, beadlike droplets hitting the pavement and the occasional passerby's umbrella, when the doorbell rang loudly throughout the otherwise silent home.

The cup clattered against the saucer in her surprise, the clear brown liquid splashing against the sides. Then she put the cup down on the table next to the offending newspaper and walked to the door.

She had not noticed anyone who might remotely look like they had business with her. After all, they would most likely come back on a better day – not this brumous one, where the sky showed no hints of it being dusk, her favourite time of day…it was just so peaceful and let her escape from the hassles of life. Besides, Grimmauld Place had a Fidelius Charm on it, so it was not possible that the visitor was a "prospective suitor" or a salesperson…if he or she was, Harry would slam the door shut. …No, that day five years ago, Yaxley or whoever it was had accidentally seen the building. The Fidelius Charm was as good as useless.

She peered through the magically enchanted window on the door, but the only thing she could actually tell was that the man, probably, was wearing quite expensive clothes and shoes. Unfortunately, his umbrella prevented her from verifying his identity, and although she had had her fair share of those 'visitors' trying to kill, capture, or interview her, she would not perform magic. It went against her moral code.

Sighing, the woman grasped the doorknob and opened it – she was beginning to feel sorry for the man stuck in the rain.

"Yes…?" she began, before he raised his umbrella.

The first thing she noticed was the shadows on his tired face. And then she saw the mercury eyes that she could identify anywhere, although they were much duller than she remembered. And then she saw the platinum blond hair.

_I closed my eyes, thinking that I wanted to tell this to you this moment. _

_I outstretched my hand, thinking that I simply wanted to touch you._

She still childishly wished to deny it, but there was no mistaking Draco Malfoy. But why was he here?

Quickly morphing her face back from that ridiculous, she knew, show of surprise into what she hoped was a neutral one, she asked him quietly, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes locked onto her for what seemed much too long, like thirty seconds of forever (she'd read that in a book she'd sneaked from Dudley's room – it wasn't like he'd ever read it, so it didn't matter, did it?). She could clearly hear the pattering of the rain on the pavement and the occasional car. Starting to feel uncomfortable, she toyed with the hem of her cardigan and let her eyes wander when he spoke.

"Potter, I…I'd like to…" he paused, lips thinning. When she continued to stare at him, he finished, "…apologize," with a grimace that she could tell he was trying to hide.

She raised an eyebrow at this. The circumstances were much too peculiar – it was raining. Draco Malfoy had come to meet her after – when was the last time she had actually talked to him? Not just pass by in the Ministry corridors, but actually talk to him? About three, four years, she supposed, because she couldn't really remember clearly. And then he had apologized. A part of her still could not believe what she had heard.

She couldn't recall any instance where he had apologized properly.

The man frowned. "Well? I take my time this rainy day to apologize, and you just ignore me in return? Seems like you've never learned your manners, Potter."

Ah, there was the Malfoy she knew. She failed to hide the quirk that upturned her lips.

Taking no notice of the irate expression on his face, she asked him, "But why today? Why not a better, sunny day instead?"

He seemed taken aback at this. Shock flitted across his face for one moment, and then disappeared as quickly as it had come. "No reason, really…I came close by."

"So you'd been thinking about apologizing for quite a long while? But why now? Everything you've said to me, done to me, I've let it go by now," Harry told him.

He did not answer. He seemed to be debating what to say.

"I…" he faltered. "I wanted to ask if…"

His eyes flitted from the entrance hall behind her to the door to the walls and to his umbrella before finally capturing hers again.

"Can we start over, Potter?"

Harry felt her mouth open in stupor.

She looked past him; saw the dusk gray streets of England, the sheets of rain, heard the drops hitting the ground, the sporadic sounds of cars and passerby.

Those were the exact same as before the doorbell had rung. So why did she feel the world spinning?

_I can still hear ( ),_

_I can still hear ( )…_

To be continued…

* * *

Written for the Album Challenge on the HPFC forum with keeno's "in the rain" feat. Hatsune Miku Dark Append.

Also for the Book Thief competition/challenge #20, "They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever." And also for the fan fiction terms category competition, beta reader. And _also _for the het pairing boot camp #45, rain. And _also _for the Star challenge, "capella." _And _for the Interesting words challenge #12, brumous.

First multi-chapter Harry Potter story, and gender bending at that. I also do not pretend to know what adults are like; I am still a child, and prefer to always be so.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. This is my first time doing anything like this, so advice would be really helpful. Pointing out errors is also appreciated.

Until next time,

Time Signature


	2. Chapter 2: fade

in the rain

Time Signature

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or keeno's lyrics. I only translated.

Draco x female Harry

* * *

Track two: fade

_My world must have been weaker than I had imagined it to be._

Harry felt a slight tap on the shoulder and was shaken out of her reverie. Blinking owlishly a couple times (because she could still not believe what she had just heard – not only was it unexpected, it was simply something she could have never imagined in her whole life), she refocused on the man still under the umbrella who seemed to be debating whether to be annoyed or amused or slightly apologetic or conceited.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Uh."

He lifted an eyebrow elegantly, compared to the smug way he had used to do it in Hogwarts. But perhaps they had both grown up.

Not able to completely face him, she continued, "Uh…do you want to come in? I don't have anything much, but…"

As soon as she said this, however, she regretted it. Currently the house was messy, due to Kreacher's absence, and who knew what he would say about it? She bit her lip slightly, hopefully slightly enough for him to not notice. She glanced at him, still shaking the water off the umbrella and closing it, and reached the thought that if he had come asking for her to start over, it was probably not starting over the exact same way they had done when eleven, with insults and mocking.

"You can dry your shoes on the mat right there, and…you can sit in one of those wooden chairs," said Harry, pointing to the tall, ornate ones across the table from the sofa she had been sitting in before he had come. As he made his way across the hallway, lightly commenting about how she should have offered the sofa to her guest, she asked him, "Tea?"

"Earl Grey." He nodded, looking down at the cup of tea on the table that was now probably quite cold. She turned to the kitchen to prepare a new pot and was pulling out the cups and saucers when she heard him say, "Made the headlines again, Potter, do you ever tire of it?"

Through the clinking of the china though, she wasn't quite sure if he had said it in a worried tone or a mocking one. A few years back, she would have no doubt answered the latter, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Actually, Malfoy, yes, I do." _The heroine-worship was suffocating_. Pouring the hot water into the pot, she instinctively closed her eyes to shield them from the steam. His voice, seemingly detached (because humans rely so much on their sense of vision) floated over to her. "I meant, do they ever tire of it?"

By "they," he must have meant the newspapers, she deduced. Somehow she had always understood what Draco Malfoy was trying to say, even when she had rather not. She pushed away that thought and stared at the three-minute hourglass. She had bought the item on a whim, because it was filled with red sand and reminded her of the Gryffindor ruby point-keeper at Hogwarts.

For an instant, the house was silent again as before, except this time it was a comforting silence – 'what, and Malfoy had made it comforting?' That was a strange thought.

Then the upper portion of the hourglass lost all of its sand, and she shook her head lightly. Placing the pot and two cups on a tray, she set it down on the table covering the Prophet, which she picked up to put away along with her old tea. It felt odd to serve Malfoy tea like any other guest. But right now, he was, and she would treat him as one as long as he was civil with her as well.

She still didn't feel…right, though.

_The way the world is made, only I'm fading, bit by bit._

After filling both, she sank into the sofa and sighed. "So. What made you want to 'start over'?"

He looked straight at her, which was unnerving, and said, "Well…I guess I thought that being on good terms with you would be beneficial to me?"

She frowned. "Malfoy, that sounds like you're trying to exploit me. Give me a reason why I shouldn't push you out of the house right now."

Grimacing, the man explained. "My father's still in Azkaban, and I took over the family head's duties a couple of years ago. But ever since the war our name hasn't been too…"

…Respected. Feared. She understood.

"And I thought that…well, it would be better for my family to be positively acquainted with you."

Sometimes she had no idea why he used such verbose, roundabout language. Perhaps it was his upbringing.

But from this, she gathered that he hadn't really changed much. Even now he revolved around his family, his duties. He himself didn't truly care if they were "friends" or not. Which, of course, she didn't either.

She downed her whole cup of tea, not minding what he thought. Wiping the edge of her mouth with the back of her palm, she stood up and turned to the window. Part of her still needed a reality check, she supposed. That was why she was following the actions she had done before the bell had rung.

The gray sky was turning a murky shade of purplish black, and the only hints she could see of rain were the occasional shining drop from the lampposts and the reflections of the road and the lights on the larger puddles that had grown on the ground.

She looked back at Malfoy, who was still sipping his tea with this certain poise that she was somehow annoyed at, while flipping the newspaper with his other hand. Either he read very fast, or he wasn't reading it, or he had already read it in the morning.

Or it was a mixture of all three of them. He didn't seem too focused on the Prophet. Sometimes he would glance up at her with this contemplative expression, and when he realized she was staring – no, of course not staring – back, he would turn down again.

Finally tearing her gaze away from how the soft lighting in the house would make his hair shine (creepy, she thought – Malfoy with a halo-ish thing around his head), she spoke up.

"It's already dark outside."

He looked toward the window. Harry pulled the emerald-green curtains to the side and showed him the scenery, London painted in grayish-silver, faint and cold light, and black.

His eyes widened slightly, as though he hadn't noticed how much time had passed, and he put down the china cup. Folding the newspaper neatly, he slowly stood up and walked toward the door.

Unsure of the proper distance to place between them, she cautiously followed. She still wasn't quite sure how this had happened. How Malfoy had come to her house this rainy day, how he had asked to "start over," how she had actually invited him in.

She would forgo the chores today. Kreacher was supposed to come home soon, anyway, and all she wanted to do was go to sleep and resort the events in her muddled head.

"Potter?"

She jumped slightly. Hiding her discomfort she asked, "What?"

"I'd called your name about four times already. Have you grown more absentminded since you graduated? First when you opened the door, and now…"

She glared. "What?" she asked again, more accented.

Staring right back, he opened his mouth.

(By now, she had a bad feeling when he didn't say anything straight away.)

"Would you mind if I came around again?"

She almost spluttered. Rapidly blinking, she answered, "Not as long as you tell me when you're coming."

Wait, where had that possibly come from? That just was much too odd. His strangeness must have rubbed off on her, she deduced. All she needed was a good night's rest, and she would be back to normal. Hopefully.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a ghost of a smile. He actually looked nice when he smiled, she thought. Not smirking or sneering, but smiling.

"Until next time, Potter."

Then he opened the door, flicked open his umbrella, and walked away a few steps before Apparating. It was too dark for Muggles to tell, anyway.

Her head hurt now. She was pretty sure it was his fault, and that he was still as annoying as he had ever been. (Even though his actions had said the opposite.)

_I feel like I'm going wrong now, and I can't move anymore. I'm clinging to falling shadows, and I'm disappearing myself._

To be continued…

* * *

Written for the Album Challenge. This particular chapter was for "fade" by keeno feat. Hatsune Miku Dark Append. It was also written for "drabble" on the fan fiction terms challenge, the War of Elemental Songs challenge (light, "Shining worship choked in a wave of silver"), and Star challenge Vega.

Again, constructive reviews are appreciated. As much as the "please update"s are nice, it doesn't tell me much about what the readers want (other than the new chapters).

Thank you for reading,

Time Signature


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